Just Sign Here
by Sapphire Sterre
Summary: After losing his job, Beast Boy desperately searches for another one. Rent will be due soon and if he doesn't pay the bills on time then he'll be kicked out. He can't go to his family's home but he can't live on the streets either! The frantic search continues until his best friend takes him to a concert and he meets a sketchy rich man with a job offer.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Will contain Sexual Assault against Beast Boy.**

 **Notes: Grant Wilson is Slade (Grant is the son of Deathstroke) He's around 26 while Beast Boy is 20. Beast Boy doesn't like Grant but he likes Robin.**

Summary: After _losing his job, Beast Boy desperately searches for another one. Rent will be due soon and if he doesn't pay the bills on time then he'll be kicked out. He can't go to his family home but he can't live on the streets either! The frantic search continues until his best friend takes him to a concert and he meets a sketchy rich man with a job offer._

* * *

 _Just Sign Here – Chapter 1_

"Punctuality is important, Beast Boy." The manager handed him a pink slip. "I'm afraid you've been late too many times."

His jaw dropped. "I'm _fired?_ "

The woman sighed. "The company has to cut their losses and you were the unlucky one. It was a pleasure working with you."

The twenty year old worked his jaw, unable to protest as she walked away, heading towards the back of the pet store. The employees who had watched the exchange offered him sympathetic expressions before finishing their work.

He was late _once._ How did that warrant being fired? He swallowed. _Oh no…_

A new job had to be found and fast. Rent would be due soon and if he didn't have the funds to afford the place then he'd have to go back to his old team and that was _not_ an option.

He rushed out of the store, backpack on his back and hustled to the bus station. Once the bus arrived, he hopped on, paid, and pulled out his phone. It was the beginning of winter–what jobs would be available? Correction–what jobs that paid _above_ minimum wage were available?

Scrolling through the internet, his options looked hopeful. There were quite a few animal shelters that needed help, and a few other pet stores. He checked the requirements. Sweet! He qualified. Though typing on his phone was a pain, he sent his old but solid resume to the jobs and returned to searching for back-ups.

Not soon enough, the bus rolled to the stop near his apartment and he walked out. But when he entered the lobby of the building, the elderly landlord and his wife were standing by the receptionist. As if waiting for someone. Still, he greeted them and they called him over with worried expressions.

"Mr. Beast Boy," the woman began. "I am so sorry about this."

"What?" His stomach churned as he looked from her to the landlord. "What happened?"

The old man sagged his shoulders. "Money's running tight right now and we can't wait for late payments."

The young man jerked. "What, but–"

"You have until the end of the month to pay the rent. I'm sorry you lost your job but if you can't pay then you have to go."

He stared, slack-jawed. Usually the elderly couple were patient and understanding. So what brought on the change? Either way he had to find a job. But hopefully he could find it _soon_. There was no way he was going back home.

"R-rigth, okay…" he backed away. "Uh, I'll pay it on time, don't worry!"

They watched him with sad expressions as he rushed into the elevator. It didn't occur to him until later to wonder how they knew he had lost his job.

The following day he received responses from the job offerings. They each started courteous and friendly, thanking him for applying. But then they all ended with an apology and that he was not what they were looking for.

Headache blooming, he applied for more jobs over the next few days, even going so far as to search for some in person, but only either received an apology or no reply at all. His hopes steadily sank. Time was running out before he'd be kicked out. The end of the month was close. Too close. And he couldn't run back to his family. He just _couldn't_ return to that life again.

The life of a superhero was not what he wanted for himself.

His phone vibrated atop his bed and he dived for the device, checking the notifications. No emails. Just a text from an old friend, asking to call.

He dialed the number and pressed the phone to his ear. Static crackled as his friend picked up.

"Yo, green bean. How's it been?"

Beast Boy rubbed a hand down his face. "Not good, dude. Lost my job and might lose my apartment too."

"What?" Cyborg's voice deepened with concern. "Shoot, how'd that happen?"

"Dunno." Beast Boy rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with an arm. "But I can't go back to them. I just _can't."_

"And you won't. I'll help you find a job but first you need to unwind a bit."

His ears perked and he pushed himself upright. "How so?"

The smug smirk was audible. "Your favorite band is playing in town tonight."

"No way." Beast Boy brightened, eyes wide. "There's no way you got tickets–they sell out the moment they're available!"

"A man never reveals his secrets!" Cyborg laughed. "But yeah I got two. One for me and one for you. You in?"

"Of course!" Beast Boy sprang to his feet. "This is gonna be so cool, when is it?"

"Tonight. I'll pick you up around eight. They're showing a sneak peek of that new film Grayson's starring in too."

Beast Boy _swooned._ "That movie won't come out till next _year."_

"I know, see you are around, BB!"

The phone beeped and connection ended. Beast Boy puffed his cheeks and checked the time. He had a couple of hours to kill, might as well get ready. So he showered and dressed in casual clothes. Not soon enough, eight rolled around and he hurried outside to Cyborg's homemade car.

The door swung open as he approached. He bounced inside with a greeting and the engine revved as they cruised away from the curb. They chatted throughout the car ride, catching up and just enjoying one another's company. Traffic was smooth until they neared the nightclub.

Cars lined the streets so they were forced to park several streets away. Cyborg joked. "Maybe we should've _walked_ here. Woulda been faster."

Beast Boy snorted and they clambered out of the car. Several minutes later they arrived at the club and to the line that curved around the building. Crowd control stanchions kept the crowd in a single file line against the stone walls. Their eyes blew wide but they passed the time with conversation and light games.

"Scissors! _Booyah."_ Cyborg cheered and the younger man scowled.

"Lucky try. Third time's the charm."

"Nope," Cyborg shot back. "Cause we're here."

Beast Boy whirled on his heel and brightened at the sight. The bouncer in front of the doors checked the tickets of members in front of them. The muscled man nodded with a smile and lifted the red velvet barrier, allowing them to pass.

The bouncer turned to them. "Tickets, please."

Cyborg lifted an arm and tapped a button. A section of metal popped open and he grabbed the tickets out of the pocket and handed them to the muscled man.

"Thank you, enjoy the performance."

They bid the bouncer farewell and walked into the room. Beast Boy had to blink fast in the following dimness. The room was only lit by a glaring screen above the stage and If Cyborg wasn't a glowing wall of metal then he would've lost the dude in the crowd.

It wasn't until the show was about to start did Beast Boy realize he couldn't see the performers over the bodies of the audience. Specifically, the handsome lead singer of the band. Cursing his lack of height, he rushed to Cyborg and yanked on a metal arm.

Catching the hint, the tin can lifted him to be on top of his shoulders and he cheered with the rest of the crowd as a blond man strode onto the stage, the performers setting up behind him. The screen above the stage zeroed focus on the man so the audience in the back could clearly see. He tapped the microphone and a dull thud reverberated in the speakers.

"Welcome, everyone." A smooth monotone swept over the audience. "The Titans are just about ready and I am _certain_ you all will enjoy tonight." A sly smile spread across sharp features. "I know I will."

Beast Boy's skin crawled as piercing blue eyes scanned the audience and almost, if for a moment, lingered on him. He shifted, features scrunching as the dread built, before the moment passed and he exhaled.

Metal vibrated beneath him as Cyborg tried to speak to him, but neither could hear over the sound of the cheering crowd. The man walked off the stage and light illuminated the performers.

The leader of the band, the masked Robin, jogged to the microphone with the electric guitar slung against his back. His short black hair was slicked back into long spikes that Beast Boy wished he could touch and comb his fingers through. No one knew Robin's real name or age, only that he was a fan of the heroes Batman and his sidekicks enough to don the stage name of Robin. Either way, he _had_ to be at least twenty or older. He was too hot and well-built to be any younger.

A yellow dress jacket with a red shirt underneath it, accompanied by dark green pants was his signature attire. Though many joked he looked like a traffic light, Beast Boy actually liked the bright colors. Somehow it just worked for the dude. Though if he ever got the chance to see Robin in other outfits, he would take it…

Beast Boy's cheeks darkened as his mind wandered, letting the singer's voice wash over him as he greeted the audience. It'd also be really hot if he could see the elusive Richard Grayson in outfits other than a black suit jacket with a blue tie and black dress pants. No one knew much about the famous actor other than that the paparazzi couldn't uncover where he lived or what he did when he wasn't acting in a movie.

He sighed, eyes tracing the high cheek bones of the singer's face. Both young men were mysterious and unknowns, and had signature clothing. They were similar size and shape and he'd never met either but…

Well, he couldn't help but wonder what'd it'd be like to know them both. And if he could convince them to wear something casual or maybe something a little tighter to the body than casual clothes or even better maybe nothing at all and–

Nope. Nope nope _nope_. Getting hot over his favorite musician _and_ actor? Not good. Not good at all. Nope nope nope. Cyborg would _kill_ him for drooling on his head. He wiped his mouth and shut his jaw, checking to make sure nothing dripped onto the tin can. Whew, okay.

"...and we're all set! Titans, go!" Robin stepped away from the microphone and slung the guitar to his front.

The black haired pianist, Rachel Roth, kickstarted the song with a soft melody. Her hair rolled down in waves to her shoulders, accenting her pale bare shoulders, as she nodded her head to the tune. Soon Kory Anders, the tall young woman with blonde hair done up in a bun, began to tap the tambourine in her hands above her head, prompting the audience to clap along to the rhythmic jingling.

Though the band didn't have a drummer anymore after the dude had split due to "musical differences" or something, the song was still solid as Robin took the lead with the guitar and burst into song.

 _"It's lonely at the top where I rock, can't stop, let it drop, let's go! Let's go!"_ The song quickened. _"Gotta find somebody who can compete. Be the one I wanna treat!"_

The ladies pitched in. _"Someone oh so sweet!"_

Beast Boy rocked to the sound, bopping his head and singing along. He cheered as they flew through song after song until the performance wound to a close and it was time for the exclusive sneak preview for upcoming movies.

He pouted as the performers bid farewell and walked off stage, eyes glued to green pants, but brightened when the speakers played a voiceover and the screen switched from live recording to a trailer.

A deep voice narrated. _"In a world of superheroes and villains, one man stands strong against the torrent of change."_ The scene switched to a slow panning of killer calves in a black jumpsuit, rising up till finally resting on flowing short black hair. The camera swiveled to take in the chiseled face of a young man with high cheekbones and a mask over his eyes.

Beast Boy nearly blasted his own eardrums as he screamed _"Grayson!_ That's Richard Grayson as _Nightwing!"_

He pumped his fists in wild delight, and would've fallen off his best friend had the dude not shifted to keep him balanced. He nearly swooned as the man spoke, voice low and serious and shooting arrows straight through his heart.

 _"Raven,"_ a replica of the famous device superheroes would use to communicate with one another appeared on the screen in his hand. _"And Starfire, report._

The scene change to a black haired young woman floating over a cliff with a red haired alien beside her. They studied the waves crashing against the rocks and answered their own copies of the device.

 _"No good."_ Raven spoke in a monotone but concern was clear. _"We've got no leads on this new guy."_

 _"We'll get him."_ The camera returned to Nightwing clutching the communicator tightly. _"We always do."_

The screen faded to black and white letters scrolled onto the window. _Nightwing Rises. Coming to a theater near you._

He screamed with the crowd and Cyborg returned him to the floor. Slowly, the crowd scattered and filed out of the building. Among the pushing and impatient bodies, Beast Boy was separated amidst the sea of people. Though he knew Cyborg would know to meet him outside, he couldn't stop the feeling of dread in his stomach.

Something wasn't right.

It wasn't until he was outside himself and, with no sight of Cyborg, checked his phone. A lone text stated for him to meet the tin can at the car. And that would've been fine if he could just stop feeling like someone was watching him.

His skin prickled as he retraced his steps and headed for the vehicle. But just as he arrived at a crosswalk with no cars in sight, he checked both ways and stepped into the street. Headlights, blinding against the darkness, flared to life and he screwed his eyes shut with a curse. Wheels screeched and he threw himself backwards, hoping for the best.

His back slammed against the ground and he groaned, winded. An engine hummed and a door clicked open. Though it was painful, he pushed himself upright with slitted eyes, black spots dancing across his vision. Indignation ignited and he prepared himself to yell at the jerk only to find his vocal chords wouldn't work. Too much screaming. _Urgh_.

"Sorry about that." A familiar monotone, thick with _something_ not quite right, stated.

Beast Boy cleared his throat and tried again, this time managing a raspy. "You almost ran me _over,_ dude."

"And I apologized."

The young man blinked fast against the spots and slowly they cleared away. He glared at the stranger only to find it was the blond manager dude of Robin's band. Glancing around the man, he realized the jerk was riding around in a _limo_ of all things. Geeze, snobbish much? He scowled. Though he had the hots for the musician didn't mean he had to take crap from the hottie's _boss._

"And you didn't mean it." Beast Boy got to his feet and patted his thighs, ready to pass the snob. "Whatever, rich dude."

"A rich dude that has a job opening." The breezy statement made him halt.

His ears twitched and he slowly turned around, thinking fast. Rent was due at the end of month. The end of the month was a _week_ from now and he needed a job that paid enough to cover the remaining cost of rent until he could find a new, better job. The jerk was clearly rich if he was riding around in a limo. And if he had a job opening, then it was _bound_ to pay enough to cover the remaining money he owed. Even if it was just being a janitor, he _needed_ a job.

"What job?" He said, wary.

Lips curled into a sly smirk, curving close to angular cheekbones that would've made him handsome if it weren't for the fact the smirk looked ominous. The older man pulled out a business card from his jacket pocket and handed the rectangular paper to the green man.

"I've been looking for an a replacement. An actor of mine has fallen ill and is unable to perform in an upcoming movie and so I need someone of athletic capability to fill the role."

Beast Boy took the card, confused. "Actor? I thought you were the manager to the _Titans_ band?"

"I am." The man answered, tone smooth and aggravating. "I am also the manager of a film. Consider my offer. It will come in handy."

With that, the jerk reentered the back side of the car and cruised away. Overall disoriented by the encounter, Beast Boy glanced at the card only to drop his jaw.

 _"Grant Wilson?"_ He exclaimed. " _The_ manager of the movie _Nightwing Rising_? Oh, man, I gotta tell Cy!"

He checked the streets once again and sprinted the rest of the way to the car. Cyborg greeted him from the driver's side and popped open the door with a push of a button on his arm.

Cyborg started the conversation. "Can you believe they actually got _real_ superheroes to act in a movie of all things?

"I know, right?" Beast Boy babbled fast, clambering into the passenger side. "It's almost as crazy as _this!"_  
He shoved the business card at his best friend's face and the older young man took a moment to read it before his jaw dropped to the floor.

"How did you get this?"

"He nearly ran me over!"

 _"What?"_

"I know!"

Beast Boy bounced in the seat as Cyborg returned the card and pulled away from the curb. "Do you think this means I might get the chance to meet _the_ Richard Grayson? If this Grant guy is the _manager_ of that movie then maybe I could convince him to let me meet him?"

Cyborg laughed. "Go get 'em tiger! This could be the chance you've been looking for!"

"And I _do_ need a job," he agreed, mind on the famous actor before switching to the musician. "And maybe I might even be able to convince him to let me meet _Robin_ too!"

"You're a man with the plan, B!" Cyborg cheered. "This is great!"

After Cyborg dropped the younger man off at his apartment and drove away, Beast Boy trudged back into his room. The energy had left him for the night and he was ready to _sleep._ He'd call Wilson tomorrow and ask more about the job offering then, but right now it was just him and sleep.

The knob turned after he unlocked it and pushed open the door. He kicked off his shoes, dragging himself to the bed, and collapsed onto the mattress with a groan.

He slept well that night.

~oOo~

 **Notes:**

 **Blame Lymaria (she has a FFNet account) for encouraging me to write a BBRob story...that will wind up having one-sided BBSlade. Whoops?**

 **The wild ride has just begun.**


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: _After losing his job, Beast Boy desperately searches for another one. Rent will be due soon and if he doesn't pay the bills on time then he'll be kicked out. He can't go to his family's home but he can't live on the streets either! The frantic search continues until his best friend takes him to a concert and he meets a sketchy rich man with a job offer._

* * *

 _Just Sign Here Ch. 2_

The sun woke him by blinding his poor eyes. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, cuddling close to the pillow in his arms and tried to block out the light. It wasn't until he remembered that he had the chance to meet celebrities that he perked with energy and scrambled to the shower to clean himself up. Decked in fresh clothes, he dived for his phone and checked the business card. It wasn't a business day, Saturday to be exact, so the guy was _bound_ to be free. Right?

He bit his lip, hesitating. For some reason, the dude gave him the creeps and he wasn't sure why. Something about the monotone or the posture or _whatever_ just sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. Something about the guy wasn't quite right. He didn't really want to talk to him, but...

But if talking to the dude gave him the chance to meet his idols, then he'd do it.

He tapped the screen, dialing the number, and pressed the phone to his ear. He swallowed as the phone rang before clicking as someone picked up.

"Hello," a familiar monotone made his skin crawl. "I see you've considered my offer, then."

Beast Boy fidgeted. "Uh, yeah. But before I agree to anything, I'd like to know a bit more about the job. What exactly am I supposed to do?"

"Fair enough." The man replied, practically purring. "But perhaps we should discuss over dinner first."

"Er…" His ears twitched. "Uh...maybe coffee instead? It shouldn't take that long."

"Relax, it'll be my treat. You want the job, _don't_ you?"

He exhaled. He didn't just want a job, he _needed_ one. He didn't have time to be picky at this rate. "Um...okay, sure. Where did you have in mind?"

"Four of Clubs."

Beast boy froze. That was one of the expensive, most fanciest, and where the only most _wealthiest_ of people could attend. It may have been just a restaurant, but it was _renowned_ for its status as a place for the elite.

"Wait _what?"_ He shook himself. "I can't go there!"

"And why not?"

Oh, as if the man didn't know. "That's too expensive, let's go somewhere else."

"Seeing as I could be your future employer, you'd do well to work with me rather than against me."

Ice shot up his spine. Was it all a trick? Did the man just pretend to have a job opening only to string him along like some sort of game? "But I can't afford it…"

"As I said, my treat. Where do you live?"

"Uh…" Beast Boy stammered out the address and silence descended.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid if you are to work for me then you can't live in _that_ side of town."

He recoiled. "Excuse me? It may not have the best reputation but the people here are _great."_

"Do you want the job or not?"

So the man _was_ stringing him along. Some rich guy felt like playing a game, huh? Well he wouldn't just sit there and take it!  
"I want a job but I _don't_ want to be played with. Are we meeting or what?"

"Feisty." The man murmured. "Alright, we'll meet at a...lower end restaurant. I'll bring the paperwork to get you started."

Beast Boy furrowed his brows. "Wait, but I don't even know–"

"I'll pick you up tonight around...seven. Wear the nicest clothes you have. I'll be waiting."

The phone beeped and the call was over. The young man pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at the device, dumbfounded.

What had he gotten himself into?

Hopefully nothing _too_ bad. Trying not to worry too much, he passed the time as a bundle of nerves. He tried calling Cyborg to ask for advice but oddly enough, the call wouldn't go through. Maybe his internet was acting up. But he'd paid the bill for _that_ on time so why…

His phone buzzed and he checked the device. Time to go, then. Decked in the only suit he owned, he hurried out of the apartment and stepped outside to see a _ferrari_ had double-parked in front of the building. He blushed and looked around only to find that people on the street were staring at the ritzy car with awe or envy and he swallowed as a familiar man stepped out of the driver's side. Wilson waved at him.

Beast Boy gritted his teeth and forced himself to approach the car. Wilson curved around the front and opened the passenger door for him and he rigidly thanked the dude and sat in the seat. His cheeks deepened hue as his neighbors tried to stare at him through the tinted windows.

Wilson entered the other side and Beast Boy hissed. "What the hell, dude? A _ferrari?_ "

The man lifted a brow as he drove. "Why drive in something less when I can afford the best?"

Beast Boy's hackles rose. "Are you _trying_ to antagonize me? If so, we can call this whole thing off!"

"No need to be so hasty." The man lifted a hand off the wheel to wave a dismissive hand. "From my understanding, you need a job and this one pays _extremely_ well."

"How much we talking?" He grouched, crossing his arms and slouching in the seat. He was one inch away from demanding the dude stop the car and let him out.

When the man told him, though, his breath caught in his chest. _"How much?"_

"You heard me just fine."

Beast Boy struggled to retort but couldn't find the words. The amount suggested wasn't just _'extremely well'_ it was filthy stinkin' _rich._ He flailed for words until disbelief won out and irritation flared.

"You're lying." He ground his teeth. "I can't believe this. You'd go through so much for a stinkin' _lie._ "

Wilson snorted. "If you want reassurance then check the dashboard and count the cash. That's how much you'll receive if you agree to at least _try_ the job."

The young man scoffed but complied. His eyes shot wide as wads of bills tumbled out and landed on his feet. That...was a lot of twenties…

He struggled to work his jaw. "This is absurd."

"There's a folder in there too. Sign the document and you'll receive the money right now."

Beast Boy exhaled, gaze skimming from wad of twenty to wad of twenty to wad of twenty to...he shook his head. He'd be able to afford more than just _one_ month of rent. He'd be able to buy an entire _building._ Like a house or something and have money left over!

"I…" he tried to work his jaw. "I can't accept this much. It's too much and I haven't even done anything–"

"You'll find the work to be exhausting, so I suggest you accept the payment now and worry about what you have or have not done later. Be sure to sign the document as well."

"But–"

"A pen is clipped to the folder. Go on and sign while I find a place to park."

Beast Boy fumbled for a response. The statement left no room for argument and he was only signing to _try_ the job, right? And he needed the money so he might as well _try_ it, right? Everything would be fine, _right?_

Swallowing hard, he pushed aside the money and found the folder. True to Wilson's word, a pen was hooked at the top. He grasped it and opened the folder, gaze skimming the contents of the document. It... _looked_ official. There were fancy words that looked like legal jargon and he didn't understand what was being said at _all,_ but…

He lifted the page until he found the spot where a signature was requested. He stared at it for a moment and tried to convince himself to put his name down. He just needed the money and this wasn't a permanent contract.

Twirling the pen in his hand and shifting the paper atop his thigh, he wrote his name in sloppy cursive and bit his lip. "Okay, what now?"

"Now, we eat." The man parked the car. "Put the money back in the dashboard for now."

Beast Boy released a sigh of relief and complied. But when he stepped out of the car, his stomach dropped.

 _"Three_ of Spades?" He hissed as Wilson looped an arm around his waist and tugged him to his side. What was _with_ the dude? Why the fanciness and why suddenly so handsy? "I told you–"

"Not the Four of Clubs and so I agreed to go to a lower end restaurant. Three of Spades."

Beast Boy nearly screamed.

~oOo~

 **Notes: Realized I had this next bit sitting around on Google Docs and figured, "whatever, might as well share it"**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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